PROMPT : PRIORITIES
Helena wrinkled her nose, scrubbing at the blot on the thick plate. She dunked it in the soapy water and swirled it again, hoping that the stain had vanished.
“Keep scrubbing,” Aunt Sam said, from over her shoulder.
“I’m scrubbing, I’m scrubbing,” Helena muttered. “If certain people had actually soaked their plates before dumping them in the kitchen then—“
“Young ladies who can’t control their mouths at the dinner table shouldn’t continue to prove it when they’re supposed to be learning from it-“
“By doing the dishes?” Helena snarked back. She winced, almost at once, the retort too late to recall.
Aunt Sam thumped her lightly over the head. “And that’s why you can’t accept the Marcus’ invitation to dinner. For goodness’ sake girl, get your head together. You’ll bring the family to shame at the rate that you prattle on about-“
“I’m not-“
“Stop interrupting!”
“But-!”
“You have got to get your priorities straight! What kind of young woman of good, upstanding-“
Helena tuned out from the lecture, turning the taps a little hotter. No one wanted to listen to her—not even her favorite Aunt. It seemed her dream had been right after all.
The world would end and she’d crumble right along with it. What was the point of a mystic who couldn’t predict anything useful?
(c) S. Harricharan